We All Fall Down
by LilyMoon'sAlias
Summary: Schwartz survives their defeat of the Elders, but not everyone is left unscathed.  CrawfordSchuldig implied.  Disclaimer:  Don't own, make nothing.


Ring around the rosie, a pocket full of posies, ashes, ashes, we all fall down.

"We all fall down," Schuldig murmured and tilted his head to lean against the glass of the window. The window overlooked the playground of a nearby school. "Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall."

"Schuldig."

"Humpty Dumpty had a great fall."

"Schuldig!" Crawford's voice, more insistent this time.

"All the King's horses and all the King's men."

"Schuldig, fight it! Pull yourself back!" Crawford growled and shook him until his head banged on the panes of glass.

"He's losing it. He's broken, Crawford," Farfarello said. He leaned against Schuldig's doorway and watched with the trembling excitement of a predator sighting wounded prey.

"No," Crawford answered firmly. "He's just strained from what happened at the tower. He's not broken."

"Can't put me back together again," Schuldig whispered in a forlorn tone and then hummed tunelessly while rocking back and forth. "Mares eat oats and does eat oats..."

"Broken, wounded, helpless," Farfarello intoned. He had taken out a knife and was turning it to watch the sunlight gleam on the razor sharp blade.

Crawford took out his gun and trained it on the madman's heart.

"Get out. Go back to your room and never cross this threshold."

"You always did want him dependant on you and malleable to your whims. Finally got what you wanted," Farfarello said and turned his lips up in amusement. "I wonder...did you see this happening when you were trying to convince him to help you destroy the Elders?"

"Get out." Quiet. Furious.

Farfarello drew the blade down his own arm, watching in absent fascination as skin parted and blood welled to the surface.

"You finally have it all, don't you? You're still in your prime. You're independently wealthy. You're free of Estet, and you have an obedient, beautiful fuck toy for your bed. Conversation sucks, but you were always telling him to be quiet and leave you in peace anyway."

Crawford had his fill of Farfarello's taunting for the day. The madman was even more dangerous during his lucid moments than when he was in the grip of his compulsions. Crawford had had enough of blunt truth, malicious speculation and the way Farfarello watched the weakened, nearly mindless telepath with murderous fascination. Crawford's much vaunted iron control finally crumbled.

"Get the fuck out!" he yelled and pulled the trigger.

Only a soft 'oomph' gave any indication that Farfarello had been hit. That and the blossoming stain of red on his right shoulder. Farfarello cackled in a way that made the hairs on Crawford's neck stand on end and shuffled away. He could busy himself by digging the slug from his own body.

"And there he kept her very well. Kept him well. Kept me there. Kept me there and well," Schuldig murmured and closed his eyes.

Crawford drew the thin body to him and pressed his hand against Schuldig's head to make him rest his head on Crawford's chest. The body that was so honed that the training was ingrained relaxed against Crawford's warmth now that the immediate threat had passed. The body had. The brilliant mind was nothing but a receiver and the once flippant mouth nothing but a speaker for the millions of minds surging through the tattered remnants of shields.

Crawford stroked a hand through the garish hair that was beginning to dull and closed his eyes in a moment of stark grief for the death of such a vibrant personality.

"Never this, Schuldig," Crawford mumbled against the telepath's temple. "I never wanted this. I would have remained the dog of Estet if it meant you would still be whole. I see that now. Do you hear me? Are you in there, Schuldig?"

Schuldig didn't answer. He instinctively curled against his caregiver, once his leader and lover, and continued to spout fragments of nursery rhymes. Crawford sighed. They would have to move again. There had to be someplace quiet enough to give the damaged telepath's mind some rest.

"If I should die before I wake..."

Crawford covered Schuldig's mouth to stop the words and briefly considered pinching his nose closed as well. Perhaps it would be better to release Schuldig from the flesh. Crawford shook his head violently and lowered his hand to tangle the fingers in his lover's hair. No. Call him a selfish, controlling bastard, but there was still a slim chance of Schuldig coming back.

Crawford's watch sounded its alarm. It was time to lead the telepath downstairs to the dining room, wrap a cloth around his neck and hope that he would accept the food this time. 


End file.
